


Guilt and Healing

by LadyCressa



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Comfort, Conversations, Father-Son Relationship, Gohan - Freeform, Guilt, Healing, Hurt, goku - Freeform, introspective, talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 14:57:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5932471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyCressa/pseuds/LadyCressa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Goku and Gohan take a moonlit walk through the woods by their home through Gohan's POV.  Gohan tackles emotions he's carried for seven years head on and finally heals from them.  Very introspective. Set two days after the defeat of Kid Buu and Goku's second night home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guilt and Healing

**Guilt and Healing**

 

I lay awake in my bed, staring up at the dark ceiling of the room my brother and I shared, and listened to his soft, even breaths. Too many thoughts and memories were swirling in my head for me to sleep.

 

 _My Dad’s back._ After seven years. When I first told Mom he’d be coming for a day at the World Martial Arts Tournament, I had no idea he’d actually get to stay!

 

I sensed his _ki_ on the move, alone. _At this hour?_ It was just past 1:30 AM. Maybe he can’t sleep either. We talked a little just before the Old Kai trained me on the planet of the Kais, but all too soon, we had to say goodbye for what I thought – and he thought – was the last time we’d see each other for a very long time. I saw the opportunity present itself as I sensed Dad wonder into the woods. I finally would get to talk with my dad with no threats hanging over us, truly talk with him for the first time in seven years.

 

I slid out of bed, and crept out of our room careful to avoid any creaky floorboards. I didn’t know why I bothered with that – the kid slept like a rock. I opened the door quietly anyway and closed it behind me; only a very soft snap was heard as the latch engaged.

 

I crept down the stairs, came out on our living room and slipped silently out the front door. I breathed in the cool forest air, the smell of the trees, the musk of animals, and the fresh smell of the nearby river. Sounds of the breeze rustling the trees, the soothing sound of the flowing river, the cries of animals all reached my ears.

 

I glided on silent feet out across the grass, as the bright, silvery light of the full moon flooded across the land and filtered through the trees. Ah. That explained my sleeplessness. Full moons had the same effect on Dad. He said it was because we were saiyans.

 

It was something to do with our ancestors having tails and with those tails transforming into giant raging apes that destroyed everything around them and the powerful, impossible to control animalistic instincts that went with those transformations. Instincts that ran deep in our veins – so deep that even though we didn’t have our tails anymore, the residual instincts still had an effect on us during a full moon.

 

My heightened senses guided me into the woods, Dad’s _ki_ my beacon. I moved silently, so as not to disturb resting animals and the nocturnal animals going about their business. Dad was farther away than I realized, but no matter. I enjoyed the walk through the moonlit forest instead of simply flying.

 

I listened to the soft breeze rustling the trees and plants around me. The quiet squeaks, growls, and screeches of nocturnal animals and the burbling of a nearby stream kept me company as I walked. I glanced up to spot an owl gazing back at me with that piercing, intense stare raptors tend to have, and watched as it tracked my every move with its sharp gaze.

 

I rounded a bend in the trail and came up to my dad’s favorite fishing spot and saw him. He wore what I could just make out to be his usual orange and blue _gi._ His arms were crossed and he held perfectly still, as if he were a statue. His head was bowed slightly, his body partially in shadow.

 

His shadow shifted as his head turned toward me. “Hey. You’re up late. Can’t sleep, either?”

 

I closed the last few steps and joined him at the edge of the water. “Nope. Must be that full moon.”

 

“Heh. I know what you mean. What about Goten?”

 

“Out like a light. If he’s ever had a hard time sleeping during a full moon, I don’t know about it. He can sleep through anything.”

 

He chuckled.

 

I stared down at the water and watched as the subtle shimmers of scales darted to and fro beneath the surface, faintly – and intermittently – illuminated by the silvery moonlight. We stood in silence for quite a while, simply enjoying the peacefulness of the night and each other’s company.

 

I heard a crunch of gravel as my dad turned to face me. He put a hand on my shoulder briefly and walked away. I quickly caught up and was shoulder to shoulder with him as we meandered deeper into the eerily moonlit woods.

 

I decided to break the silence. “Dad, it’s amazing to have you back again. I’ve missed you. We’ve all missed you.”

 

“I’m happy to be back. I’ve missed you, too, Son.”

 

His tone was soft but there was a genuine happiness in his words. He sounded as happy to be back as we were to have him back.

 

My heart gave an uncertain flutter and I felt my mouth go a little dry, and my hands began to fidget with my clothes as my feet kept pace with my father’s. I tried to clamp down on the emotion bubbling up in me – the emotion I’ve been struggling on and off with for the last seven years.

 

Old questions reared their ugly heads and spun through my mind. Questions that I finally had the opportunity to ask, but those same questions also held me back. I wasn’t sure if I wanted those questions answered.

_Does he forgive me for not killing Cell when I had the chance? For letting my power go to my head?_

_Does he forgive me for robbing him of seven years of life all because I was an arrogant fool?_

_Does he forgive me for robbing him of being there for the birth of his second child?_

_Was_ I _part of the reason he didn’t want to come back?_

_Now that he_ is _back, is he proud of me even though I haven’t been training? Did I disappoint him?_

Ignorance was most decidedly _not_ bliss, but asking was out of the question.

Mom sounded like she forgave me – heck, maybe she was never mad at me to begin with. Then again, she was so lost in grief it was a hard to tell which. She had explained to me through her own tears and pain there was nothing to forgive. She had told me Dad was a grown man and made his own decisions.

I couldn’t shake the guilt I carried. Guilt became like the grief of losing him. They both became a part of me as time went on. Parts of me that I buried deeper and deeper.

 

Mom seemed to think I forgave myself a long time ago. I did finally learn how to smile and laugh genuinely again. Gradually, the grief healed, but my guilt wouldn’t leave.

 

I had my coping mechanisms, my ways of getting through, my ways of burying both. That was why I lost myself in my studies. Dad did tell me to do that after all as part of his final words to me. He knew it would make Mom very happy and it did, but that wasn’t why I did it. In the weeks after Dad died, studying was the only way I had to escape that skeleton and its cold, accusatory stare.

 

I loved learning. Truly I did and I enjoyed dedicating myself to my studies, but I doubt I would have studied _quite_ as hard as I did if I wasn’t using that to bury that skeleton that continually, stubbornly resurfaced. Even I got tired of studying and took breaks sometimes. Even Mom of all people barred me from studying for a day or two and kicked me out of the house from time to time.

 

During those down times, that skeleton dug itself out. During those breaks, I often spent time with friends. They kept things mostly light around me, especially in the immediate months after the Cell Games. I was grateful when they did. They didn’t keep things light all the time.

 

All of our friends told me I became the man of the house.

 

 _Man of the house?_ I thought bitterly at the time. _Weren’t men supposed to be great pillars of strength in their households?_

 

I may have been strong but I had immense power I couldn’t control. Power that I never wanted to use again, but I did just a few short months later because it was either that or the whole world would be destroyed. For the first several months after Dad’s death, I felt like I was falling apart at the seams inside even though I was even stronger than Dad at the time. Some man of the house I was.  

 

When Goten was born, I was functioning more or less like a normal human – er, _half_ human – and helped Mom raise him. Seeing his face, his hair for the first time… I wasn’t expecting that – an almost exact replica of _him._ It was almost a slap in the face… almost. I could see that skeleton mocking me from the shadows as I watched that tiny carbon copy of our father sleep his first night home and knowing it was because of me our dad wasn’t around.  

 

Yet, I wasn’t prepared for the healing that tiny baby brought, either. He sure was cute. Not only did he look exactly like Dad, but as he grew, it became apparent he had Dad’s exact same personality, too. He really was my Dad’s mini-me. Goten’s smiles, like Dad’s, had the effect of bringing out bright smiles at whomever they were aimed at and could brighten anyone’s day. Even Vegeta and Piccolo gave him small smiles from time to time.

 

With Goten’s growth also came curiosity. Curiosity about anything and everything, including a subject I was perfectly happy to stay away from.

 

_“Where’s Daddy?”_

_“Why isn’t Daddy here?”_

_“What was Daddy like?”_

_“Can I see Daddy some day?”_

 

It was my fault he didn’t have his father. How was I going to explain that to a toddler? Someday, Goten would hear the full story from me. I silently promised him that much when he was very small, and I dreaded that day. I could only hope he would forgive me when he knew the full truth.

Mom had answered a lot of his questions with simple explanations his innocent mind could understand, explanations that left out the part of my power going to my head, and unknowingly spared me of digging out that old skeleton once again. I dealt with its cold, accusing stare from the shadows enough on my own. I didn’t want to burden anyone else with it.

 

Once again, guilt dug out from its depths. Its familiar icy hands grabbed my heart in its vice-like grip, and my feet missed a step. I stumbled slightly but caught myself easily. A small, involuntary shudder escaped me and I hoped Dad didn’t notice.

 

He stopped walking and since I had my gaze on the well-beaten path at our feet, I saw his boots turn to face me.  

 

I forced myself to meet his gaze. In the faint moonlight filtering through the trees, I could just barely make out his expression. He had an eyebrow raised, but his eyes held that typical wide-eyed, clueless innocence and a dose of concern.

 

“What’s eating you, Son?” His tone was gentle – almost unbearably so.

 

I berated myself for letting him see that side of me and suddenly felt self-conscious under his gaze. I didn’t mean to let him see my nervousness before I had made up my mind on whether I even wanted to ask _those_ questions.

 

I blew out a breath and shook it off. “It’s nothing. My foot just… snagged on a root.”

 

I knew he was watching me, so I put on my most convincing smile and laughed a little, my hand reflexively rubbing the back of my neck, a habit I inherited from him. My laugh still sounded painfully nervous and forced and generally uncomfortable to my ears, but Dad wasn’t the best at reading people. He may also have simply decided not to push the issue for the time being. Either way, I was grateful.

 

As we wandered deeper and deeper into the woods, the game trail that became our well-beaten path over the years faded back to its natural, narrow state. The darkness of the night was also deeper in this part of the woods, the trees so huge and dense, they cut off much of the moonlight and a root really did snag my foot, making me stumble again.

 

Even at high noon, that area of the forest felt near sundown. Dad always had great eyes, even in the near pitch-black darkness of the woods. Must have been something to do with him being full-blooded saiyan. The darkness of the forest and my being half human gave me a convenient excuse, even if I didn’t usually trip. I hoped he bought it.

 

The crunch of gravel behind me stopped and I felt a hand on my shoulder, stopping me as well.

 

_Crap._

 

I turned around. His brow furrowed slightly and that stern father side I knew by experience was in there somewhere beneath his clueless, happy-go-lucky exterior began to slowly show itself.

 

Even though he wasn’t the best at reading people, Dad wasn’t entirely clueless.

 

I wasn’t ready to hear what he had to say on that particular matter. Thankfully, he stayed quiet and we continued walking.

 

I was really just enjoying being in his company again.

 

The rough game trail we had been following spat us out into a nice little clearing. The clearing was unobstructed by the dense trees surrounding it, so it received a strong dose of moonlight. I paused to take it in and felt Dad approach me so we stood shoulder-to-shoulder bathed in moonlight.

 

The sweet smell of wild flowers lingered in the air, despite all the blooms being closed for the night. I was sure it was a beautiful spot during the day.

 

Dad stepped in front of me and faced me, that stern father side fully revealed and I knew he wouldn’t drop it. I wasn’t sure I wanted him to. I didn’t really know _what_ I wanted.

 

“What’s up, Gohan?”

 

His tone lacked the gentleness he had used earlier. He very much expected an answer.

 

My heart sped up a few ticks and my mouth went slightly dry. “Dad…”

 

I bit my lip and crossed my arms as I stubbed the toe of my boot on the ground and stared at it. I really didn’t know where to start. He waited quietly. Dad could be a very patient man when he wanted to be.

 

What was I supposed to say? I had been holding it in for so long that I knew it would not come out easily. I wasn’t even sure I knew _how_ to put to words to what I was feeling.

 

I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Gohan? Talk to me, buddy. What’s wrong?”

 

I brought my gaze back to his face. He really didn’t seem mad at all. Not even disappointed. The only expression he wore was concern. Did he really not get it? Or… had he let it go? Maybe… he never was mad at me in the first place.

 

I supposed there was only one way to find out. There was that old skeleton staring me down from the shadows again, daring me to say something. Daring me to not be the coward I’ve been for the last seven years. A chill went down my spine.

 

I took a deep breath. “Dad I… really don’t know where to start. It’s completely overwhelming.”

 

That much was certainly true.

 

Dad just watched me patiently, with that same look of parental concern.

 

I dropped my gaze to his boots again as my brain worked to put words to what I had kept hidden deep inside for so long. “You’re back and I’m really happy about that, but if it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have died. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have missed out on seven years of being with us. You would have been there for Mom when she had Goten and seen all of his firsts. I never quite forgave myself for that, for not – “

 

I froze when I felt a firm hand on my shoulder, his voice stern and serious. “That’s _enough_ Gohan. Look at me.“

 

I raised my head to look him in the eye, his gaze hard and unwavering.

 

“I _never_ blamed you for that. Ever. Not even a little bit. Who knows what could have happened that day. I made the choice to stay dead, not because I wanted to but because I _had_ to. I was so proud of you then, and I’m proud of you now. I was _never_ angry with you for that.”

 

He held my gaze.

 

He said so much with those few short sentences. A large, painful lump formed in my throat and I swallowed hard. “Dad, I can’t begin to tell you what that meant to me. I carried that… that guilt for so long.”

 

He gasped and his stern expression turned into one of shock. “It’s been seven years, Son! Don’t tell me you’ve been carrying that around all this time!”  

 

I didn’t answer.

 

He sighed and his expression softened back into one of concern, but he didn’t seem to quite know what to say to that. He really was genuinely surprised I carried that around all that time. Dad was a horrible liar. His words were all sincere. He… really _wasn’t_ angry with me.  

 

My shoulders sagged a little bit but not from the weight of the burden, but from the intensity of my relief.

 

A new thought popped into my head as a strange uneasiness wormed its way into me and I felt my eyes narrow a little bit. Seven years is a long time to be without a loved one. A lot changed in seven years. We’ve all changed – including Mom. We had to. We had to learn to live without him and we did. We kept each other strong. We both had a feeling we couldn’t shake that one day he’d be back with us, but until that day, we had to keep going.

 

A little over a couple of years after the Cell Games, Mom told me Bulma introduced her to a guy and begged her to go out with him and she was actually considering it. I was terrified Mom was actually going to move on; the very thought of anyone else in _our_ house… truly did _not_ feel right. I begrudgingly realized if moving on made Mom happy, well, she more than deserved that much, and I would be kind to any guy she chose but I would never be able to see the guy as my father.

 

Goten – at a year old at the time – was young enough he would probably bond very closely with the guy. The guy _would_ be Daddy to him.

 

 _Who am I to deny him of knowing_ a _dad? I already denied him of one,_ was my thought to myself as I watched him sleep soundly in our shared bedroom the night Mom told me about the guy, blissfully oblivious to the possibility of our world changing.

 

Her and that guy went out a few times in the evenings while I stayed home and babysat Goten. I put Goten to bed but I would stay up and wait for her every time she went out. The first date seemed to go well enough – as she came home content but not over the moon – and the second seemed okay, too. The third date was another story. By the third date, I could see a change in Mom and it became clear to me the dates were a waste of time for all of us.

 

When she got home from the third date, I watched her walk into our dark house from the pitch-black stairwell near our front door. On a side table on one end of the couch was a bunch of family pictures and a few singles. One of those singles was of Dad – taken that last week before the Cell Games – wearing that usual goofy, light-up-the-room grin of his.

 

I watched her pause at that table and grab Dad’s picture. She ran a finger down it tenderly then burst into uncontrollable sobs and dashed up to her room, Dad’s picture clutched to her chest. She didn’t even notice me pressed into the wall as she blazed passed me toward her room.

 

I heard her crying for most of the rest of that night and I had no idea how to comfort her. It was then I knew she was still in love with Dad – but also still very broken-hearted. As bad as I felt for her, I couldn’t help but be relieved, but I was also worried about how much longer that love could last.

 

A few days after that, we were over visiting Bulma at Capsule Corp and Bulma prattled on and on about the stupid guy and the stupid dates. I could see Mom was growing tired of it real quick so I stepped in. I snapped and yelled at Bulma to shut up about it, making my power flare and a small earthquake was reported in the news that afternoon. Bulma backed down in a huff and that was that and Mom looked very relieved.

 

The subject hadn’t been brought up since and Mom never went out on another date again. Dad’s picture long since returned to its place on the side table, but I didn’t see Mom giving it any more attention. She barely so much as looked at it. That worried me. All that happened five years ago.

 

Mom _definitely_ was over the moon the last couple days, so I was sure I knew what the answer was before I asked but I had to hear it from him. I wasn’t sure if I’d overstep any boundaries by bringing it up, but I _had_ to know. I was their son and was old enough to handle whatever the answer would be… but that still didn’t completely stop the butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

 

“Dad… ?”

 

He glanced my way. “Yeah, Son?”

 

I bit my lip. “It’s been seven years and Mom’s changed a lot. You and Mom are… okay… right?”

 

My generally oblivious, clueless father knew exactly what I was getting at without any more explanation. His eyes crinkled as a small smile lifted the corners of his mouth. I wasn’t really sure he was actually _aware_ he was grinning.

 

Still wearing that small smile, he turned to face me fully and looked me in my eyes. “We’ve never been better, Son. We’ve never been better.”

 

His tone was soft and there was even a bit of… was that relief? In that moment, he sounded like the grown man that was in there under his childlike innocence and enthusiastic love for life. He smiled like the man that was madly in love with my mother.

 

There were not words to describe my relief in hearing those two simple sentences come out of Dad’s mouth. My worry faded away immediately and I couldn’t fight my own very relieved smile from spreading on my face.

 

After a minute he smiled that famous million-watt, light up the room smile of his and said, “I asked her to marry me again and she said yes!”

 

My grin widened. “Dad! That’s great!”

 

They really were just fine! I was so beyond happy, I felt like I could just float away. It actually took some will power on my part to keep my feet firmly planted on the ground.

 

Mom and I both knew Dad would come back sometime. He always did in the past, even if it took him a while. Even though he had decided to stay dead, we knew he would have to come back eventually. Evil wouldn’t stay away from Earth forever and saving the world was very much Dad’s forte.

 

Everyone would pitch in and fight to their best ability, but when it came down to it, only Dad was strong enough. We were right because Majin Buu showed up after seven years of peace. The living manifestation of that hope stood right next to me in that clearing.  

 

Dad and I fell silent for a short while, simply enjoying each other’s company and listened to the nighttime activity of the forest. I watched my father as he absorbed the sights and smells around him. He had a small, genuine, very content smile on his face. He always did love nature. He told me when I was little that these woods were where he grew up so this forest would always be home to him.

 

He looked like he was in no hurry to leave.   We would be out there a while – probably the rest of the night. I supposed this was my chance to ask him anything I needed to ask him. I realized I might not get another chance like the one we had ever again. He was back, but who knew what could happen next?

 

Not only that, but what was on my mind that night just didn’t exactly… seem like acceptable dinner table conversation – not that much talking during meals has ever happened since we were all too busy stuffing our faces as fast as we could with Mom’s delicious cooking. I needed to take the opportunity while it presented itself. I knew I would regret it later if I didn’t. I needed to ask him my questions, even if I wouldn’t like his answers. I decided not knowing was definitely worse.

 

I took a breath. “Dad?”

 

I somehow couldn’t stop saying that word. Dad. It was just three little letters. Being able to use the word to address someone again – not just someone, but _him –_ meant the world to me. Goten began or ended – sometimes both – every sentence with ‘Daddy’. Dad was no where near being tired of hearing the word from either of us.

 

He turned to face me still wearing that small, content smile on his face, that smile I remembered him giving me a lot when I was little.

 

“I… know I was rusty when I fought Dabura and Buu. Vegeta was right. I did slack off. I dedicated myself to my studies and became what Mom wanted me to be, but… I stopped training…”

 

Not only did I throw myself into my education to escape the guilt I carried and to make Mom happy, but I also did it because training was… too painful. Whenever I sparred with Piccolo, it would all come flooding back. It was far too much for me to handle, so I gave it up.

 

Piccolo understood. In fact, I think he was the only person on the entire planet who was truly aware of the guilt I carried, ever present in the back of my mind. I knew I was running the risk of disappointing Dad, but it was the decision I made.

 

Dad did something I didn’t expect. He actually laughed a little bit, which threw me off.

 

“Gohan, I said it once and I’ll say it again. I was proud of you then, and I’m proud of you _now_.” His eyebrows pulled down as his expression grew a little bit serious again. “Did that make you happy?”

 

There was no hesitation. “Yes. Learning makes me happy every bit as much as fighting makes you happy. Some days, I would take a break, but I loved it then and still do.”  

 

His expression softened and his eyes crinkled as he put a hand on my shoulder. “Good. As long as you’re doing what makes you happy, then I’ll always be proud of you.”

 

After a short moment, he laughed again. “I’ll bet that made your mother very happy.”

 

I laughed, too. “Oh, yeah! She was thrilled! She did ease up on my education, but she was still happy I threw myself on my studies. I was amazed Mom actually eased up.” I paused for a moment before I told him something I wasn’t sure he knew about yet. “She changed… a lot. Easing up on my education wasn’t the only thing. Did you know she trained Goten?”

 

He wasn’t surprised but was still very happy. “Yeah! She told me about that! He was amazing at the Tournament!”

 

“I know! He was so strong! I almost didn’t believe Goten when he said Mom trained him until he went Super Saiyan right in front of me and so easily. He told me Mom totally freaked on him when he went Super Saiyan the first time ever because she told him not to do that again.”

 

He laughed again, loudly. That was a sound I missed so much. No one could quite laugh like Dad. He had been doing an awful lot of it the last two days. We all have. I was positive Mom and I laughed more in the last two days than we have in the whole of the last seven years.

 

Like me, she could smile and laugh genuinely after a long while, but her laughter was never quite the same as it was when Dad was alive.  

 

“Yeah, that sounds like your mother. She never did like Super Saiyans. All they do is break her stuff.”

 

“Yeah, like the entire kitchen.”

 

He threw his head back and laughed again. I joined in, our laughter loud enough to echo through the surrounding mountains, the animals voicing their displeasure only making us laugh harder still. Laughing with my father. It felt wonderful. I really couldn’t get enough of it. I was eternally grateful to that Old Kai for sacrificing his life to bring my father back to life because I really couldn’t imagine saying goodbye to him for real.

 

After a solid few minutes, our laughter gradually died down to a few soft chortles and giggles here and there as we fought to regain control.

 

After calming down, he faced me again with an interested expression on his face. “So… Tell me, Gohan. What have you been up to?”

 

I told him about everything I had been up to the last seven years, which wasn’t a lot but it was still something. I told him about spending time with Dende and Piccolo when I would take breaks from studying in the first few months after Cell.

 

I told him the story of when Goten was born. He loved that. He asked a lot of questions. He wanted to know all about Goten’s firsts, the first sporadic, unpredictable hints of his power coming out when he was a baby like mine did. He wanted to know everything about Goten. Things he liked and didn’t like, his favorite everything, Dad wanted to hear every little detail. I told him everything I knew about Goten all the way up to when Dad first met him at the tournament. He seemed to be trying to memorize my every word.

 

I told him of my first day at high school and how my power – and my identity as the kid who beat Cell – almost got exposed by none other then Hercule’s daughter who happened to be in my class. I told him about how she blackmailed me to join the Tournament by threatening to expose me as the ‘Gold Fighter’ who defeated Cell when she figured out it wasn’t actually her father.

 

“She even made me give her flying lessons!”

 

Dad laughed and playfully elbowed me in the ribs. “Sounds like your girlfriend is a feisty one!”

 

I face-palmed. “Ugh… Dad she’s _not_ my girlfriend!”

 

Actually, she sort of was and we even had our first kiss! But Dad didn’t need to know that.

 

He just smirked. “Whatever you say, Gohan.”

 

I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t quite stop the familiar heat from spreading on my cheeks. Ugh… as if my denial wasn’t obvious enough then I had to go and blush. That was just… great.  

 

Dad’s smirk only widened.

 

I searched around for a change of subject to get the conversation the heck away from my love life – if one could even call it that.

 

“Tell me what you’ve been up to in Other World. Knowing you, you’ve probably learned some cool tricks and seen lots of cool stuff.”

 

“I sure did!”

 

He talked about his new Super Saiyan transformations. He mentioned his using Super Saiyan 3 to keep Buu busy while Trunks retrieved the Dragon Ball Radar was the reason he couldn’t stay his full twenty-four hours on Earth the day of the Tournament. Something to do with consuming the limited amount of energy granted for a visit to the living world.

 

He told me all about this martial arts tournament in Other World and all about the weird techniques the fighters used. He talked about how he and this guy named Pikkon both got disqualified in the finals for touching the ceiling of the giant room they were in at the same time. He said Pikkon reminded him a little of Piccolo in personality. He said it was little things like that that made him miss all of us.

 

On the subject of fights, we exchanged notes of that time when dead people walked the Earth, seemingly able to cross back and forth between the living world and the afterlife at will. Until Dad told me about the bizarre and very strong creature he and Vegeta fought using the Fusion Dance in Other World being the cause of all of that, I never did figure out why that happened.

 

We shared more laughter at Vegeta’s expense and his initial reaction to fusion and how much of a failure Dad said the first couple tries were. It was strange… Dad and Vegeta actually became… friends. They weren’t just mortal enemies turned rivals anymore. I had a hard time wrapping my head around that one, but it really shouldn’t have surprised me. Vegeta did change a lot.

 

Dad told me all about this special planet he got to go stay on. He had a distant look in his eyes while telling me about that planet. It was a place reserved only for fallen heroic warriors where he got to train to his heart’s content. He told me how some there had been training for thousands of years. He said he loved it there and the training was great, but still thought of us a lot. He told me he and the other warriors would sometimes talk about their families while taking breaks from training.

 

He talked about us. I wasn’t surprised per se. Just… happy he did. The way he said that… his voice was quiet, his face thoughtful. There was even some amount of longing in his tone. They must have had some serious conversations about their families.

 

He sighed and regret – an emotion I wasn’t expecting – crept into his features. “Gohan, I’m sorry I didn’t come back. I thought I was making the right decision by staying dead. I thought I was keeping you, your Mom, your brother, and everyone else here safe but after Majin Buu, I realized I was wrong. Powerful evil will show up no matter what. I see that now. I missed seven years with all of you because _I_ made a mistake. Can you forgive me for being away for so long and missing so much of your life?”

 

I put a hand on his shoulder. “I was never mad at you for making the decision you did. I know you only did it because you thought that was what was best for everyone.”

 

I felt a slight almost imperceptible slump in his shoulders, but not from tiredness. He seemed… relieved. I couldn’t believe he asked for _my_ forgiveness and was even worried I _wouldn’t_ forgive him! He had more right to be angry with me!

 

He really regretted staying dead! Dad wasn’t one to dwell on past mistakes. He learned from them and moved on, especially where mistakes in battles were concerned. This wasn’t a mistake in a battle – well it kind of was. It was a mistake that had lasting repercussions for his family he had left behind that was partly my fault, too.

 

He really seemed to have put a lot of thought into coming back and took it very seriously. Seeing that side of my typically very lighthearted and clueless father was very rare.

 

Every single one of those rare, fleeting moments when my Dad showed me a deeper side of him in the years past I burned into my memory, treasuring them like precious gems. The two of us talking in the clearing under the moonlight would get similar treatment, carefully filed away like the rest so not one word would be forgotten.  

 

At some point, bats had flown down from a nearby cave and joined us in the clearing, swooping and flapping wildly, nipping up all the tiny insects in the area. One passed so close to my face, I could hear its very high-pitched echolocation.

 

Dad watched the bats in fascination, too as they went about their business, gathering food for their young in their cave and for themselves.

 

Another large lump formed in my throat, one that refused to go away as I realized I no longer carried the burden I had silently dealt with for seven long years. That skeleton was finally laid to rest, never to grab my heart in its icy grip again.

 

My eyes started to sting. My Dad was back and he wasn’t angry or disappointed with me! I squeezed my eyes shut in an attempt to keep the tears I could feel forming at bay.  

 

I wasn’t a crier. Piccolo saw fit to beat that out of me when I was very young and I owed him my life many times over for that. Despite the control over my emotions he instilled in me, a tear escaped and rolled down my cheek.

 

I opened my eyes and glanced at my father out of the corner of my eye. His attention was still on the bats, so I took my chance to hurriedly wipe it away quickly enough that I hoped he wouldn’t notice.

 

We stayed out there until the moon set and the faintest brightening of the sky signaled the impending sunrise. He yawned and stretched his arms over his head then smiled at me and clapped me on my shoulder as he turned around.

 

“Let’s go home, Gohan. Let’s get a few hours of sleep, then by the time we get up, your mother will probably have breakfast ready!”

 

No sooner had he finished that sentence then his stomach roared, flushing birds from their roosts for miles around, shortly followed by mine, equally loud. More animals voiced their displeasure at the disturbance.

 

We broke out into loud fits of laughter so intense we had to wipe tears from our eyes. I was sure that was a sound we both missed hearing, even if the forest didn’t.

 

Still chortling, he said, “Well, I don’t know about you Gohan, but I can’t sleep on an empty stomach. That huge apple tree still around?”

 

“Yes! Want to go get some?”

 

“Yeah! Some apples would make the perfect snack!”

 

“Then let’s go!” I smirked at him then kicked off into the air. “Race ya!”

 

“You’re on!”

 

And – in a flare of our _kis –_ we soared away into the slowly brightening early morning sky toward our favorite apple tree with the hole in it.


End file.
